Page 70 of Living at 40

“What?” Logan and I say together.

“It’s a girl thing,” Mila announces, shrugging her bony little shoulder.

“Oh.” Logan chokes around the sound, and I reach for his wrist.

“Do you want to handle this?”

“Um.” He swallows hard. I have faith Logan can do this. He can address his daughter’s issue, but he appears a little shell-shocked.

“Is this her first time?” I quietly ask, not wanting to embarrass him.

“I think so.” His wide eyes and stunned expression confirm his uncertainty. “Chloe hadn’t mentioned anything and . . . Lorna hasn’t said.”

I smile as I softly pat his arm. “I’ve got this.”

“Okay.” His voice feels distant, and then his shoulders relax. “Okay. Thank you. Let me know if she . . . needs anything.” He’s got this, but he also needs a minute. Eleven years old seems early to me, but I know girls are having periods younger and younger, and Anna’s already had the talk with Mila just so she’s prepared.

After pressing a kiss to his jaw, I walk forward, gesturing for Mila to lead the way upstairs.

“Is Logan your boyfriend?” Mila asks once we hit the staircase.

“I—” Is that who I am to Logan? I’m not certain how to answer, nor do I think it’s my niece’s business. Her teasing voice reminds me she’s young, and this isn’t her concern. “Where is Lorna now?”

“She’s in my bathroom.”

I continue to follow Mila down the hall to her bedroom, where she has a bathroom inside. “If he’s your boyfriend, do you think he and Lorna will move here? You could get married, and then Lorna and I could go to school together.”

Oh my. It’s a sweet thought, but Mila and Lorna wouldn’t be in the same grade. I’m not even going to address the idea of marrying Logan. It’s a dream I’ve had since I was young, but not one I want to hope for as I’m older. I’d say wiser, but I can admit I’m just a fool for love, and I wanna be in love with Logan. I am in love with him, but I want him to love me in return.

Stopping before the bathroom door, I rap softly at the wood, dismissing my niece’s questions again. “Lorna, it’s Autumn.”

“Come in,” her quiet voice offers.

Stepping inside, she’s still seated on the toilet, underwear at her ankles.

“Oh baby,” I quietly say, lowering to a squat. “You know what this is, right?”

She gives me a look like, of course she does, but her eyes are also full of panic. Do I let her know she’s a woman now? It’s scary and exciting, and it means her body can do amazing things at some point. When she’s older, of course. Much older.

“Are you prepared for this? Do you have pads? Or did your mom mention tampons?”

“I have stuff in my bag, but I was afraid to leave the toilet.”

“Okay, honey. Let me get your things.”

Slipping back out of the bathroom, I find her backpack and carry everything into the smaller space. Inside the pack, I find a change of underwear for her and a small zipper case with a few items inside.

“You’re going to need more than this, but we can go to the store tomorrow. Your dad can get whatever you need.”

“Can you do it?” she sheepishly asks.

“Of course. But your dad knows about these things. You can talk to him about it or anything.” I’m confident I’m not speaking out of turn about her father. Despite his stricken expression downstairs, he’s got this with his daughter. For a moment, I’m sad Chloe missed out. This should be her domain, but she made her choice. “Or you can call your mom tomorrow.”

“My mom’s in France, and there’s a time difference.” Her voice rings bitter, and I think better of having mentioned Chloe.

“Okay. You hand me the dirty pants, and you change.” Rinsing them out in Mila’s sink, I hang them discreetly beside a towel on the rod.

“Where were you and Dad?” Lorna asks after concentrating on her fresh underwear and the new-to-her strangeness between her legs.